


The Night After The Edge of Forever

by sidebyside_archivist



Category: Star Trek: The Original Series
Genre: M/M, Time Travel
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2006-03-01
Updated: 2006-03-01
Packaged: 2021-03-05 04:40:10
Rating: Explicit
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 1,706
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/25498489
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/sidebyside_archivist/pseuds/sidebyside_archivist
Summary: Kirk's hurting after the foray into the past. Spock helps him out. Or do they help each other?
Relationships: James T. Kirk/Spock
Kudos: 28
Collections: Side By Side Issue 19





	The Night After The Edge of Forever

**Author's Note:**

> Note from LadyKardasi and Sahviere, the archivists: this story was originally archived at [Side by Side](https://fanlore.org/wiki/Side_by_Side_\(Star_Trek:_TOS_zine\)) and was moved to the AO3 as part of the Open Doors project in 2020. We tried to reach out to all creators about the move and posted announcements, but may not have reached everyone. If you are the creator and would like to claim this work, please contact us using the e-mail address on [Side by Side’s collection profile](http://archiveofourown.org/collections/sidebyside/profile).

Night shift on Enterprise. Most of Alpha Shift are asleep. Spock is not. He sits up on the edge of his bunk, thinking about the recent events in New York City in 1930. Tries to meditate, to place his thoughts in order, and is not succeeding. The buzzer sounds. "Come," he says automatically, and tries not to wince when he sees the form that stumbles in.

"Am I disturbing you, Mr. Spock?" The voice is deliberately light, but the human is leaking pain and need. Spock turns his head, tries to meet the hazel eyes, and after a moment, succeeds. He expects to see the pain he feels Kirk radiating reflected in those eyes, all he sees is concern. Concern for him.

"You are not." He considers. "Please. Sit." Spock gestures to the chair facing the bunk, and Kirk lowers his body into it. "You are in pain."

Kirk laughs, a dry sound. "Is it that obvious?" He turns his head. "I should go." He half gets up, turns, "I'm sorry to have disturbed you, Mr. Spock."

"You have not disturbed me." He wants to help. _Let me help_ , he hears from somewhere. "Captain, I..."

Kirk turns anguished eyes on him. "I keep seeing her die, Spock. I know she had to die. But I can't seem to stop wishing I could have changed it."He slumps against the bulkhead. "I should go." He makes no move to leave. Spock stands, walks to him, looks at him for a long moment. He is not sure how to proceed. But he's feeling something else here.

Kirk's arms are suddenly around his waist, and he brings his own up, and after an awkward pause, embraces his friend. From somewhere, he thinks how extraordinarily small Kirk is, compared to the average Human. Small, and yet powerful. He feels his muscles under the softness of the gold tunic. Smells a spice and a musk. And the edges of his mind. Powerful, intelligent, and something else underneath. Suddenly, afraid to breathe, he looks at his friend's face, so close to his own.

Without volition, their mouths meet. Lips open, teeth touch briefly, then part and tongues, one cinnabar fire and the other cool spring, entwine. As if in echo, he hears a voice. _By his side. As if you've always been, and always will be._ Is he insane? He does not know. Beyond this moment, he knows nothing. After what seems a long time they break and search each others' faces.

"Captain, I..."

"Sssh," Kirk's arms, around his body, soothing him. Nothing in the world matters now except his voice, golden, like his mind. Soft tenor. He feels his heart in his side, suddenly loud through the pulse in his ears. Feels as if he would blow away, shatter. Be swept aside like so many sparks of flame in ash.

He searches the topaz eyes again. Growls deep in his chest. Tries to speak again. Fails. Human hands, strong hands grasp his face, pull him inexorably toward him. "Yes, my friend. Yes."

One last try at sanity. His dark eyes plead. But he is undone as fingers caress jaw line, lobe of ear, and other fingers snake around his back, and touch one of his chenesi. Both respond. Sanity is lost in that moment. He buries his face in Jim's neck, breaths in gulps of Jim's hair, Jim's ear, Jim's scent. Suddenly his tunic is too tight, too hot, and they both tumble to the bunk, kissing deeply, so deeply, almost painfully, as he feels the rasp of stubble against his jaw as he devours the mouth of his Captain, his friend. His salvation.

Absently, Jim hears something fall, as Spock's body slides against his again. Suddenly he is aware that he wants this, has wanted it for a very long time. Spock isn't the first man he's been with. Just the first one he's fallen in love with. _'m in love with Spock_ , he repeats to himself in wonderment. _I'm in love with my First Officer._ He tries to analyze it for a moment, then gives up and loses himself in the kissing, in the heat. Tries, then, to pull back long enough to get undressed, but Spock seems oblivious, his mouth and tongue locked in place, turning Jim's brain to jelly.

Spock feels the hardness of Jim's penis as it rubs against his hip, as they grind together. He feels his own organ begin pushing from its sheath, as if to join with the Human's, and their hips push, legs around each others, for long minutes. Breathing heavily, they both break for a moment. Gaze intently into each others' eyes again. "Captain, I..."

"Jim. I think you can call me Jim."

How amazing, Spock thinks. He says only, "Jim..." He is pleading. He is not certain for what, but he wants something. "I do not know what to..." he gestures helplessly, for once at a loss for words.

"It's okay. Are you sure you want this?" A nod. Dark lashes framing deep dark eyes. "I think we're overdressed." Spock's eartips turning green. He pulls his boots off and then his socks, not taking his eyes off his friend's face. Somehow lines them neatly up by the foot of the bunk. Watches raptly as Jim peels off his shirt and tosses his boots towards the door. Jim opens the seam on his trousers, and peels them off, revealing the tenting in his briefs. Spock licks his lips, unable to move. When the briefs come off, there is a sharp intake of breath.

"You are beautiful."

"You're still dressed."

Abashed, Spock peels off his shirt and undershirt. He starts to undo his trousers. Jim's hands on his. "Let me." He lies back as the fabric seams part and he lifts his hips as Jim pulls the trousers down, and along with them, the black StarFleet issue briefs. Spock's sex is fully aroused, and he sees Jim looking at him with something deeper than curiosity. He wonders if it is reflected in his own face, decides it probably is, and that it does not matter. All that matters right now is giving pleasure to this man who lies next to him. "You are beautiful," he repeats, not knowing how else to describe this alien who moves him so much. He looks curiously at the organ standing proud against Jim's belly. Jim kisses him lightly on the neck, on the ear, and takes Spock's hand in his own, placing it on the shaft.

"I won't break," he says, sensing Spock's fear.

"I want to please you, "Spock whispers. "I do not know how."

Jim shows him, in his mind. So deceptively hard under the surface softness. Spock bends and takes the organ in his mouth, engulfing it. Feeling Jim's pleasure he uses his tongue to flick the underside, where it is most sensitive. Jim arches and cries out. "Too soon..." he says in a strangled tone. Spock pulls out, laves the balls with that hot tongue, and they move in their sac. Jim pulls him up to lie next to him again. They kiss, and their cocks duel, strain, and they buck their hips again, grinding into each other. Spock is breathing hard again, and Jim feels his heart in his side hammering. "We need lube. No matter. Next time." Spock's eyes on his, drilling in. "There will be a next time, won't there?"

"If you wish it." Spock's voice, surprisingly even.

"No, Spock, if *you* wish it."

"Do not torment me so. I wish only you. However I can have you. For however long." Spock turns his head to the side, briefly. Has he misjudged this Human's wishes? For a moment he feels shame. Just for a moment.

"Spock." The voice, a lifeline. "I want you, too. I think I always have. But only what you can give me. Spock. I don't want to lose you. Lose us."

Spock looks back at the eyes, intense on his. "You have me. Always. For as long as you want me." Can he make it any clearer? "It is all I have dreamed of. All I would wish."

"Oh, Spock." Jim kisses the Vulcan again. Tenderly at first, then again, their mouths grind into one another as do their pelvises. Feeling what Spock wants, Spock feeling what Jim wants, they wrap hands around one another's shafts, rock together, cocks grinding against one another, bellies touching. Spock takes his free hand, guides Jim's to his back, to the hollows within, lets him feel the chenesi as they writhe within their hollows with his intense want. The liquid fire pooling in their bellies, they moan into each others' mouths, and thrust at each other until Spock cannot stand the pressure anymore as it builds within him and he spurts, heavily, and a moment later, Jim does too. They hold themselves still for long moments, their bodies sliding together with their breathing as it slows.

Sated, they fall back, and Jim's arms come around the Vulcan's waist. Spock is not sure he is still breathing, and is mildly surprised to find he is, and that he is completely relaxed for the first time in weeks. Though the two have not melded, he feels some of Jim's thoughts, and realizes his friend is sliding into sleep. Spock feels the stickiness between their bellies, pooling under their bodies. It does not seem to matter.

He lays his head on the pillow beside Jim's golden head, and watches him as he begins to slumber deeply, the first time since they left New York, since Jim had watched Edith Keeler die. He feels Jim's thoughts, feels that the pain is mending. This is all that he wants, to shelter his friend from such pain. Idly, he wonders where this new thing between them will take them, whether it will continue or whether he will have to once again build walls and place himself behind them. Decides it does not matter.

Spock is under no illusions. He knows Jim's passions run deep and burn fast. But if it has saved his friend from pain, that is all that matters. Whatever happens next, will happen.

He is pondering this, when he, too, falls asleep.


End file.
